Plague (Чума)

Miramar film

With the support of Bulgarian National Film Center

Presents

PLAGUE

- Welcome, Hadji. - Well met.

You took a long while.

There's no short way to Jerusalem. How are the horses?

The servants rode them every day. I guarantee it.

Load them and take them out.

Give us some food for the road. The bigger sacks.

Why don't you stay over?

Get rested, and you'll be on your way first thing tomorrow.

Time is chasing us.

You pay extra for the sack.

I don't doubt it.

You'll have to add some.

Hey, even Jerusalem is cheaper!

Your horses are strong. They eat twofold.

Two pieces aren't enough for a hadji.

Three enough?

It's a hard time to travel. You'll doze off your horses.

As long as the horses stay awake...

Wait.

There's been some word.

Something really bad is happening across the Balkan.

You don't kick a horse.

Should I kick your donkey?

You hear?

Ain't the desert big enough? You want to fight here?

Dad, how long will you keep silent?

You'll fight only when there's no other way.

Even the weakest man with a knife is stronger than a tough one with bare fists.

You could've died for nothing.

Halt!

We'll go to the right.

The one on the left is broader.

- We'll take the narrow one. - But why?

Because that's what I'm deciding. It's better for the horses.

I'm not a child, father. I am asking, not my horse.

- The innkeeper said something. - Go ahead and say it too.

He said the region's been set aflame by a disease.

People dying like flies - entire villages.

Do you believe him? He seemed like a jester to me.

If it's about something bad, I'd rather believe.

We'll take longer. Elitsa is waiting for me.

Women are patient when it's about a wedding.

Women maybe. But I'm in a hurry.

Maybe I'll never get to wear it.

What are you saying!

Mom, who'll look at me in these times.

Can't you see them?

They barely peek out, like mice out of their hole.

It's the chorbaji's son that's taking you for a wife. They'll gawk.

Not like mice, they'll gawk like owls.

Then they'll gossip.

I couldn't care less.

I only care about what Yono says.

The groom won't look at your dress at the wedding.

If he's a man,

he'll remember you when you take it off.

By the looks of it, he'll be asleep by the time I take it off.

Stop, stop.

Fires.

And not just one.

If there's a road, there's a village.

We'll spend the night. We can take it, but the horses need rest.

Come on.

The young ones are guarding the roads to their villages,

but we're doing nothing. Anyone could creep in.

- And what will they take from us? - What can they take?

We're almost starving to death.

This damned fear! Our stock's left out on the field.

The ones that ravaged our fields

will probably come for the village, too.

They'll rob us, and bring the plague.

This scourge doesn't ask who's hungry and who's full.

Yurdan's warehouses are full to the brink.

People are counting each grain, but he went to become a hadji.

You've held a grudge against him for a long time.

The man's helped a lot of people, right?

Helped. He's been after me for years, like I owe him something.

Like I'll make him less rich.

Here, in front of everyone, he said he's forgiven your debt.

- Just chorbaji talk. - The plague will settle all your debts.

If there's hunger, I'll be the first to kick his door down.

You here stick around and flog the dead horse.

Come dark, climb up.

There're fires burning everywhere.

People aren't playing, if you're pestilent, they burn your house down.

Maybe the scourge will jump over us.

Yeah, it'll jump. You don't even dare jump over a fence.

Just starve here, as long as there's peace.

The man is right.

There're just two field hands in the house, nice and plump.

Say, why did he kick you out?

He didn't kick me out.

Did you lay a hand on his money?

I'll lay a hand on him...

- Lift up. - Go, go...

Go on.

- It's a funeral, where's your priest? - There.

You're keeping your distance. Don't fear us. We don't load them.

The relatives throw them in the cart.

Then they take their things and go to the forest.

To do what?

Nothing.

We don't allow them in the village if they've been around a pestilent.

If they're gone and dead, they say, you can't get it.

They sit in the forest and pray it doesn't rain.

When we set their houses on fire, they howl like wolves.

- We saw the fires from uphill. - These are other villages.

We burned the bad houses. And these, we're yet to burn.

Only this one, we don't know what to do with.

His house is wall to wall with the neighbors.

And the neighbors aren't sick.

Can you spare a little bread?

Give them a loaf.

Go inside,

the innkeeper is there.

Open up. We aren't sick.

Come in.

Come in.

You'll sleep here.

- Do you have anything to eat? - No.

The fire's out.

You'll eat tomorrow.

The villages down the road have gone mad. A plague is cutting people down.

We saw how they throw them in the lime pit like dead animals.

The plague doesn't strike animals.

It's still clean here, but further down...

Hunger is haunting people, hunger!

The people in our village are terrified.

If an outlander turns up, who's to know if he's pestilent or not?

He grabs a piece of bread and runs.

People even brandish weapons now. But they stay in their houses.

It was packed here before.

Now my rakia squats in the barrels like a widow.

Go on. Stretch out down here.

Tomorrow's another day.

Come on.

Come on, let's go.

- Saddle the horses up. - They're saddled.

Stop! Hey, hajduk!

- Stop! - He's stealing the horses!

- He's stealing the horses! - Hey! Stop!

- Hey, stop! - You motherfucking hajduk!

He's stealing the horses! He's stealing the horses! Stop!

You motherfucking hajduk!

Don't they steal bread? Why do they need a horse?

They take them to the most pestilent villages and sell the meat.

The hungry don't ask if it's a mare or stallion.

If they don't have money, they give their wives' jewels.

And that's that. You can't eat silver and gold.

Have a coffee, hadji. Until the boy gets back.

He'll ride about a bit, and then get back.

He won't be back without both horses. He'll chase the hajduk to the end.

To show him the price of meat from father's horse.

Go on, get the coffee.

Who waits for coffee. Pour me a rakia.

Now you're talking! Wonderful.

Wonderful.

- Here you are. - Call him too.

Come on, come up.

Don't fret. The boy will come.

I've always taught him to walk against the pain, not with it.

But now he's started to seek it.

After the second rakia, I speak to the Lord.

Your son will come back, hadji.

He is strong. He'll be fine.

I know.

God is with you, son.

If he doesn't get back by tomorrow, you'll take me with your nag.

It's been a while since I've had a fare.

Why don't you stay, hadji? Maybe he'll come back here.

It's been two days.

If he's gone far, he may go straight to our village.

And there's still time until tomorrow.

You're a broad-minded man. You're probably very rich.

I've ferried many hadjis.

All shiny and dressed up. Rich.

But cheap as a tight ass.

They bargain for each penny. You...

You paid what I asked.

It's for the fear. You're taking me to the plague.

It doesn't like me.

I've been that way.

I've seen the sick plenty of times. From afar.

With black spots and boils on their necks.

Have you seen them?

- No. - No need to.

If you come across them, don't look at them up close.

If it's a disease, it goes from man to man.

But once it settles in,

it can't go further than a man can jump.

It won't catch you

if you don't go near.

Kolyo.

What is it?

Come out to tell you something.

Tell me.